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At last M. Bernouillet came into Chicot's room, laughing immoderately.
"He is dying," said he, "and the man has arrived from Avignon."
"Have you seen him?"
"Of course."
"What is he like?"
"Little and thin."
"It is he," thought Chicot; and he said, "Tell me about his arrival."
"An hour ago I was in the kitchen, when I saw a grea
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